


trap card: mistletoe

by hezenvengeance



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hezenvengeance/pseuds/hezenvengeance
Summary: Seto is late coming home for Christmas. Mokuba has an unorthodox gift idea. Karura is hopeless in love with her boyfriend.





	trap card: mistletoe

It’s Christmas Eve, and snow has blanketed Domino City. The outside world has ground to a standstill, much to the disappointment of the two remaining residents of the Kaiba household.

 

It’s warm inside, at least. Karura was never suited for winters like this; it never snowed in all the years she lived in Egypt, and it still mesmerises her how the world can go so quiet and still when the weather changes this way. Mokuba nestled into her lap adds another layer of warmth; the youngest Kaiba is barely awake, yawning as he lazily thumbs through his phone, Karura combing her fingers gently through his unruly hair. It won’t be long before he won’t fit in her arms anymore; some sixth sense tells her he’s due another growth spurt.

 

Mokuba yawns again, finally giving up and setting his phone down to turn in toward her body, whining something about the time. Karura peers up at the clock above the mantelpiece; it’s 10:33pm, and she tells him as much with an admonishment that if he’s so tired he should go and sleep in his actual bed. Of course, as she says this Karura pulls the spare throw from the back of the sofa and wraps it around the two of them, unwilling as he is to turn in when there’s still someone so obviously missing. She looks over her shoulder again, out the window and into the garden; the lights they put up are barely visible as the flurries increase, and a sigh floats up from under Karura’s chin. Mokuba’s figured it out too.

 

Seto is not going to make it home for Christmas.

 

He’s been racing against the clock again; last minute holiday promotions for his latest update to solid vision, product launches and talks and tech demonstrations all over the globe. Neither of them can fault Seto for it. He’s worked himself to the bone this quarter, through many nights and mealtimes, and that only sort of stopped when Karura wrangled Isono to help her stage an emergency intervention because even KaibaCorp CEO Seto Kaiba will drop dead if he foregoes eating and sleep for too long. And she still swells with pride watching him on TV, partly at how far his demeanour has come since their school days, and partly at her own handiwork. There’s already a clamouring for the original painting she created as the centrepiece of the promotional art online. She should organise a charity auction.

 

Still, his presence is noticeably absent. There’s a meal from lunch in the fridge for him, and at Mokuba’s insistence they hung stockings. An odd tradition to adopt for both their cultures, but seeing the three comically large socks stuck to the mantelpiece (in silver, white and blue, of course) warms her heart, even Seto isn’t here to see it.

 

Karura puts a hand out, aiming for her tea on the side table, and startles when she comes up short.

 

They’ve left a gap for him on the couch instinctually, she realises.

 

She sighs, giving up on the tea and instead shifts her position, slowly; Mokuba is well and truly asleep now, breathing deep and even on her chest. She has no wish to stir him. It’s a little selfish, but she’d rather they stay here on the couch than go back to their own beds, alone.

 

She can see the door from here too, and can’t help the little bit of silly hope that wedges itself into the corner of her heart. She _aches_ with it, with missing him, so much so it’s almost ridiculous. They’ve only been dating four months, but Karura would be lying if she said she hadn’t been wanting it for much, much longer. And now that they’re both in places where it’s easier to admit that they feel, that they _want_ , that being apart is harder than it rationally ought to be (as Seto told her over video call two nights ago), it’s also easier for them to admit that they miss each other. That the presence he has introduced to her life is just as irreplaceable as the one she carved into his.

 

(He bemoans the meals the most, when he has to go and she has to stay. Takagi home cooking has both Kaiba brothers looking healthier and a little less pointy at the edges. Karura does not miss the times when she could see Seto’s ribs even when he slouched.)

 

He still struggles to make sense of it, some days, hesitant with his affections and slow to let her know what’s on his mind. But she’s known him long enough to work it out. Seto Kaiba’s love is atypical and gradual and almost all subtext, but Karura considers herself one of the luckiest people in the world. Kaiba saw something in her, at sixteen when she had and was _nothing_ , so close to meeting her father’s fate before him. No, Seto saw something worth a second look, a third, a conversation, a career, an irreplaceable bond, first as friends and slowly more and more.

 

She covers her eyes with the back of her hand. It shouldn’t be possible to love someone this much. She feels like she’s bursting at the seams with it.

 

Karura lets her eyes slide shut, gathering Mokuba a little tighter to her and snuggling down into the sofa; the clock ticks over to 11 just as she nods off.

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing that Karura notices when she next wakes up is that it is cold. Or, rather, cold has entered the building at some point recently, the sharp sting of winter air bleeding away as the heating re-regulates the temperature. The next thing that occurs to her is something, _someone_ stroking a hand through her hair. She catches the hand, fits the familiarly large palm against her cheek, and blearily opens her eyes. Seto’s face swims into view above her, leant over the back of the sofa and still in his coat and scarf, ruffled and rosy-cheeked from the blizzard.

 

They don’t speak for one long moment, and Karura lets her eyes slide shut again. Seto sweeps his thumb under her eye and she leans into the touch almost instantly, and Kaiba’s demeanour finally switches from ‘closed off businessman’ to ‘less closed off older brother and boyfriend’ as he leans further down to hug her. Another stretch of comfortable silence; he’s holding her tightly, fingers digging into her sweater.

 

“I missed you too,” she whispers, stroking her hands down his back, over his shoulders, through his hair. it has the same effect as on Mokuba; Seto almost immediately goes utterly boneless, more slumped into her arms now than holding.

 

“When did you get back?” She asks softly, as Seto lets his face slip into the crook of Karura’s neck.

 

“About ten minutes ago. It would of been sooner, but I dropped off Isono.”

 

“Wow, the great Seto Kaiba, being kind to his employees? I think half the world would die of shock if they heard.”

 

“If there’s something I can finally understand about Isono, it’s his devotion to his husband.”

 

“The power of love~” Karura starts to sing, and dissolves into a fit of sleepy giggles when Seto groans into the skin of her shoulder and distangles himself from her embrace, just as Mokuba decides he’s had enough of being jostled.

 

“Is it morning, K?” The fuzzy mop of black hair lifts, and Mokuba sits up and starts to rub the sleep from his eyes.

 

“Not yet kiddo, but uh, I think we already got our best present.”

 

Mokuba makes a soft ‘huh’ sound, questioning, till Seto clears his throat. The younger Kaiba turns, and Seto doesn’t even get a chance to say hello before Mokuba is launching himself over the back of the sofa and into his big brother’s arms. They land in a heap, Seto making a face that suggests if Mokuba hugged him any harder he’d snap in half.

 

“I can’t believe you made it back!” Mokuba yells into his chest, and Seto finally lowers his arms enough to pat his brother’s head.

 

“I told you I’d be back in time, so here I am.”

 

Karura pops her head up from the sofa, eyeing the brothers softly. “The news did say the airport held up all flights, nothing coming in or out. It wasn’t exactly outside the realm of possibility for you to be stuck.”

 

Seto scoffs. “A little inclement weather isn’t going to stop me getting where I need to be.”

 

“ _Because you’re Seto fucking Kaiba, right?_ ” Mokuba and Karura sing in unison, Seto scowling as he struggles to extricate himself from his brother’s hug, at least enough to stand.

 

“Mokuba, what did I say about swearing? Did Wheeler teach you that?” Mokuba simply sticks his tongue out as Karura falls back into the cushions, giggling helplessly.

 

“Babe, babe, you gotta keep up with your own memes! Come on, don’t tell me you’ve got your head that far up your own ass?”

 

“Karura, stop. Mokuba, don’t copy that.”

 

Mokuba himself finally lets go, if only to plant his hands decidedly on his hips. “I’m not a kid anymore, Seto! C’mon, it’s not _all_ K. The others in my class swear all the time.”

 

“And I know for a fact that you can do better,” Seto says, scoffing again, and turns his pointed gaze to Karura, “And you, Takagi, are a bad influence, and in.. some sort of trouble.”

 

She has the decency to look meek, but the threat is a little lost when Seto is so clearly tired that he’s barely standing. She crests the back of the sofa, and gently takes his hands, rubbing her thumb over the tendons in his wrists. He sighs, and drops just a little further, close enough she can whisper in his ear.

 

“You can think up something much better on a few hours sleep, I think.”

 

Seto nods, and she feels the brush of his hair against her cheek; he’s leaning on her now, heavier by the second, and Karura is a little wary of him actually collapsing in the living room, because as strong as she is the last thing she wants to be doing at quarter to midnight is dragging her tall, heavy boyfriend up two flights of stairs.

 

“A-lright little guy, time for bed. And no buts!” She manages just as Mokuba begins to protest, “Seriously, look at your brother. I know he said he could sleep standing up but I don’t want him to prove it, because I’ll lose a bet with Tristan we’ve been holding since high school.”

 

Seto snorts close to her ear, and Mokuba leans into her side, still wide awake and quietly muttering something about how Seto had only just got here and that it was almost Christmas anyway so why’d they have to sleep. Still, both Kaiba’s let her lead them up the stairs with minimal protest.

 

They wrangle Mokuba into bed together; he’ll find his way back to the two of them by morning, but a few hours without a kick to the back won’t go amiss. Seto starts to make for his office as if on autopilot, but Karura catches him by the waist and pushes him back in the direction of the bedroom, and the fact he makes no motion to resist shows just how tired he is. She leaves him to change, disappearing into her own room for pajamas, and spots the early gift Mokuba had shoved at her that morning over breakfast. Her eyes light up, and a mischievous smile sneaks over her face as she picks up the stack of hand-painted cards, and flips the first one over.

 

“Oh, that’s perfect.”

 

* * *

 

 

Karura returns with a bounce in her step, holding the card behind her back. Seto has, thankfully, managed pajamas, sat on the edge of the bed and fiddling with his phone. She steps into his space and gently tips his chin up; he lets her, clearly not doing anything important by the lack of annoyance on his face. She grins in the half light, and flips the card between her fingers to face-up.

 

“I play the trap card: mistletoe.”

 

Seto just _stares_ at her, looking, for once, dumbfounded. Karura laughs, knocking his knees apart so she can stand closer.

 

“What, never seen one before?”

 

His face twists into a scowl, though small.

 

“I know what a mistletoe is, Karura.”

 

“So get on with it then.”

 

“You played the card. You deal the effect. Or do I have to teach you how to play duel monsters again?”

 

“What, no counter traps? No spells? It’s unlike you, Seto Kaiba.”

 

“What can I say,” he murmurs, tone coloured with gentle wonder, “You always seem to catch me off guard.”

 

Karura has nothing to say to that. Raw affection seems to spill from her as she bends her head to kiss him, feather-light, hands on his shoulders to steady herself. He snakes a hand up to the nape of her neck, threading long fingers through her hair and tilting her back down as she makes to pull away; his kiss is deeper, longer, arrests her till she loses all sense, flushed and heady and warm all the way through, smiling breathlessly as she escapes him this time. She presses her lips to his forehead, the crease between his brows, his high cheekbones, his chin, the tip of his nose, kisses him all over till he’s as red-faced as her. Karura lets him pull her in again, happy to accept this rare outpouring of honest affection, hands on her waist and in her hair. There’s no heat to it, just warmth. They’ve missed each other terribly, and Seto says as much when he finally manages to stop kissing her. He repeats the motions he made on the sofa; burying his face in the crook of her neck, gathering her up in his lap and into his arms, as close as he can get her. Karura presses more kisses into his hair.

 

“You’re coming with me next time. I can’t be this distracted again, not when we’re pushing the boundaries of solid vision so much. I couldn’t watch half of the talks I made back, with how many ridiculous mistakes I made.”

 

“Because you were thinking of me?”

 

“Yes,” Seto says decisively, as if it’s obvious. Karura can’t help the little snort that escapes her.

 

“Hey, you think you’ve got it bad? You should see my warmups these past few weeks. Sneaky bastard, you’ve taken over my sketchbooks. _Again._ ”

 

“You should do some new ones of me naked, I think my figures changed since the last ten or so-“

 

“ _Seto!!!”_

 

Karura rolls off his lap and launches a pillow at him, which he deftly catches, automatically shielding himself from the inevitable next one aimed his way. Karura never thought of herself as predictable, but Seto seems to have her all figured out, down to her propensity to throw backup feather-down projectiles. She pulls the duvet up just enough to burrow down into it, covers up to her chin.

 

Two soft blows to the face successfully avoided, Seto flips the covers back and makes to settle in the bed, before realising that the pillows Karura launched at him are his sides pillows. That are now on the floor. Karura can practically see him considering his options, and the moment he gives up and slides over to the side she occupies, collapsing pretty much on top of her. She groans, shoving weakly at his shoulders.

 

“Gerroff.”

 

“No. This is my bed.”

 

“Doesn’t mean you have to smother me.”

 

“I’m not _smothering_ you. You held Mokuba this way comfortably, right?”

 

“Weirdly enough, you, a six foot twenty-something, are heavier than a five foot three fifteen year old.”

 

“You do have your own room here.”

 

“You say that like we’re not all going to end up here by morning anyway.”

 

“You two need to learn to sleep alone.”

 

“That’s rich, coming from mister clingy himself.”

 

“Rich, hm?”

 

“Oh for God’s sake- shut _up_.”

 

It’s true though; Seto has once again wrapped her up securely in his arms. She won’t begrudge him it any further, and instead tangles their legs together, humming contentedly. There’s a beat of silence.

 

“So, what was with the card?” He says quietly.

 

“Mokuba’s patented PDA deck.”

 

“ _Mokuba_ made that?”

 

“Mhm. Apparently he thinks I’m bothered by your lack of outward affection in public.”

 

There’s a moment of hesitation. “...Are you?”

 

Karura has closed her eyes, running her fingers through Seto’s already mussed hair, but they crack open at that. Was he, Seto _goddamn_  Kaiba, really doubting her? Doubting himself?

 

_Oh, Seto._

 

“Not in the slightest,” she answers back, confident, “I don’t wanna share moments like this with strangers and the paps and the world. They’re mine and yours alone. And like… I _know_ you. I know you care about me. I know you love me. I’m not someone who needs to hear it everyday. Hell, makes it more special when you _do_ say it, y’know?”

 

Seto shifts under her hands, drawing up till he hangs over her, deep blue eyes shining in the darkness. His voice is barely there, but there is fierce and serious undercurrent to it.

 

“I love you.”

 

Karura’s eyes widen a slight, then soften, and she cradles his face in her hands and draws him in for the last long kiss of the night, a kiss that says:

 

_I know._

  



End file.
